


Just read the damn book

by Renmiriffx



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Grumpy Mickey, Kinda, Love struck!Ian, M/M, Matchmaker!Mandy, have fun, i dunno, i know i did, one of my silly lil ficlets, stubborn!Mickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 04:48:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6105390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renmiriffx/pseuds/Renmiriffx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What you do after a break-up? Get a rebound.</p><p>Then his eyes stopped at a redhead. Now that will do just fine. Tall, lean built, looks like a top. Mickey tilted his head to get a better view on the guy. He was too far away to get any better insight of him. Mickey didn’t get a good look of his face, yet, but fuck yeah was he gonna, when the line slowly died out and the guy stepped closer to Mickey. Jesus, was the guy hot or fucking what? Mickey sucked in a sharp breath, would he sit on that face…</p><p>And then leave it that... so not gonna happen.</p><p>Or the one where Mickey is actually hella smitten and Ian wants to date him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just read the damn book

**Author's Note:**

> Don't ask.  
> Sorry for typos and grammar errors  
> Leave me some love cuties ~<3~  
> I don't bite, not hard anyways ;)

Mickey would be lying if he said that he wasn’t heartbroken, because he was, but not in a way you’d think of. Sure he was pissed as hell, because of Peter. His boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, whatever… But he wasn’t fucked up, because he had been dumped, he was fucked up, because for 2 months he’d let himself believe, let himself dream that he was worth something. And fuck that punk for saying so, “Oh babe, you’re so fine, you’re kind, you’re good, just believe in yourself,” and Mickey, the stupid fucking idiot, had believed him. And for what? To have that fucking asshole run at first sign of trouble. “Shit Mickey… You’ve been to juvie? You used to sell drugs? You don’t do that anymore, I get it, but still. Ah fuck, I can’t be around you anymore, I have a reputation to look after.”

And that was the end of that fucking fairy tale. No matter how hard Mickey had tried nor how long he’d come from being the neighborhood thug, it still wasn’t enough. He had a legit job as a bouncer at a nightclub. He didn’t do drugs anymore (apart from the occasional weed). He was good, he was legit. But nah, that wasn’t good for fucking North Side yuppies and their shiny watches. But that was on Mickey, he should have known better, no fucking ex-high school-jock was going to accept him as he truly was.

 It was a miracle that Peter had looked behind his rugged appearance in the first place, guess Mickey has his eyes to thank for, his dazzling fucking blue diamonds. Ah, fuck it. Fuck Peter, fuck relationships, bunch of horseshit anyways, he’s better off. What was Mandy saying again? Oh right, get back on the rodeo boy! And Mickey was so going to do that, he needed to get Peter out of his system, fuck someone new, someone completely different.

So he scanned the fuckers in the line, waiting to get inside the club. Too fat, too short, too similar to Peter, nah dark hair won’t do. Too skinny, too much muscles. Then his eyes stopped at a redhead. Now that will do just fine. Tall, lean built, looks like a top. Mickey tilted his head to get a better view on the guy. He was too far away to get any better insight of him. Mickey didn’t get a good look of his face, yet, but fuck yeah was he gonna, when the line slowly died out and the guy stepped closer to Mickey. Jesus, was the guy hot or fucking what? Mickey sucked in a sharp breath, would he sit on that face… So he did what any normal horny guy in a need of a quick fuck would do, he pulled the guy away from the line when he was proxy to Mickey.

“Got I.D?” He asked, stopping the guy from entering the club.

The guy hesitated for a while before handing Mickey his I.D, he bite his lip the whole time when Mickey looked between the I.D and him.

“Sorry kiddo, gotta be 20,” Mickey shoved the I.D to the kid’s chest.

“Come on man, do an exception, I’m like 3 months away from 20.”

“And lose my job for that, nah kid, not gonna do that.” Mickey shook his head, looking the kid pout in front of him.

“But I have a suggestion. See I know why you wanna get inside,” Mickey eyed the kid from head to toes.

“And why is that?” The kid asked, not nervously, but there was some odd flicker in his eyes.

Mickey tugged the kid closer by his shirt. He wasn’t going to sweet-talk, he was going straight to the point. “Sex,” He raised his eyebrows, “I get off in two hours, you circle back then, and then you can pound me into the mattress. How’s that?”

The kid’s eyes widen as he gulped. “Two hours?”

Mickey nodded. “Now get lost kiddo.”

“I’m Ian by the way,” The kid said.

“And I don’t give a fuck.”

 

* * *

 

When Mickey returned from the deep slumber, he felt pressure on his lower back, tracing the feeling he felt a grip or a group on his ass. His limbs were tangled with something or someone. Wary as fuck, he tried to scoop out the remaining sleep from his eyes. One turn of the head and he saw the cause of the constant pressure. The ginger fuck fell asleep here? Again, for fucks sake… What part of get the fuck out that boy didn’t understand? It was, he was, a rebound, a simple rebound. Nothing more, and he would never be nothing more, that much was certain. Mickey was never going to fall for that trap again. No fucking relationships, he was done with them. But when does the rebound spend nights at your place? And this was the third fucking time when Mickey woke up that octopus sucking the life out of him.

Sure it could be a casual fling, friends with benefits (not that Mickey wanted to be friends with the ginger kid, whose name he still couldn’t remember), but Mandy has made him watch way too many chick flicks to know how those ended, and Mickey is certain that casual sex doesn’t exist, someone _always_ falls in love. And he’d slept with the freckles three times already and that’s way too close to a casual fling. Fucker needs to go, like yesterday.

“Ay,” Mickey untangled himself under the last nights lay, “Wake up!” He shook the boy.

But did the boy wake up and got the fuck out of Mickey’s apartment? No. Fucking mumbles just groaned and adjusted the covers better.

“Morning,” The so called rebound mumbled.

“Oh it’s alive,” Mickey snarled and got up, he scanned for the boy’s clothes from yesterday, but fuck did he remember what the boy wore last night? Fuck had he wore? Where the fuck he had been yesterday? Mickey almost dripped over an empty vodka bottle… Well that explains a lot. Without thinking about it too much Mickey grabbed some clothes from the floor and tossed them to the kid.

“Get dressed,” He said and threw something on as well.

“What, no breakfast?” The kid joked, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“Clothes. Now. Out.” Mickey addressed as firmly as he could. He needed something to eat, without a ginger hovering over him, asking questions, getting to know him. A rebound, Mickey reminted himself.

“Okay, okay,” Redhead mumbled, starting to get dressed.

Mickey went to make coffee for himself and after a while the redhead emerged from the bedroom, dressed in clothes that weren’t necessarily his, judging from the tight fit of the shirt and mismatched socks.

“Can I get a cup?” He nodded towards the coffee machine.

Mickey let out a sigh, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“Jeez, you’re still here? No you can’t get a cup, get out,” He ushered, making his way to open the front door for the boy.

“Breakfast? Lunch? Number?” The kid asked shrugging.

“You asking me out?” Mickey was dumbfucked. He fucking knew it, fucking none existing casual sex.

“Would that be such a bad thing?” The redhead chuckled.

“Holy hell, get the fuck out,” Mickey pushed the kid’s shoulder in order to get him out of his flat.

“That’s not a no,” Ginger continued.

“Out, now,” Mickey pointed, “Bye, have a great life kid.” And with that he slammed the door shut before the kid could speak again.

The coffee hadn’t poured yet when there was a knock on his door. For fucks sake, didn’t that kid learn? Huffing out Mickey yanked the door open.

“Whatta fuck now?” He yelled as his eyes fall to the person behind the door. It wasn’t the ginger, but his sister Mandy.

“What got you so riled up?” His sister pushed past him, entering the bachelor crib of Mickey Milkovich. “Jesus Mickey, when was the last time you cleaned in here?”

Mickey slammed the door shut, _again_.

“Oh, sure come right in your highness,” Mickey rolled his eyes, “Fucks it to you anyway bitch?”

“You can’t keep living like this big brother,” Mandy shook her head, before slumping into the couch, “Guess what, I just ran into the hottest guy ever on the stairs,” She grinned, “Please tell me he was coming from here?”

“Redhead?” Mickey asked, not sure if he was actually listening to his sister.

“Yup,” Mandy smirked.

“Ah fuck, yeah yeah, slept with him couple of times.”

“And you let him leave? Fuck, Mick. Did you look at the guy? He’s like burning hot!”

“Yeah, so?”

“So, go get him tiger,” Mandy said.

“Hold your horses, ain’t you the one who said that hop on the rodeo?” Mickey watched the coffee machine drip, how fucking slow can that thing be?

“Yeah, but if they look like that…”

“So you’re basing the whole ‘dating’ thing on looks alone? I don’t even fucking remember his name,” Mickey sounded deadpan.

“Who the fuck isn’t? First thing we notice about a new person is their look, the get-to-know-one-other comes later, my dear brother.

“Still, not gonna date him.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because I’m done with it!”

“Scared you’d fall in love with him?” Mandy asked.

“No.”

“Then why’d you sleep with him more than once?”

To that question Mickey had no answer. Not to get Mickey wrong, the ginger was an awesome lay, one of the best he’s ever had, but indeed why had he?

“I don’t know? By accident I guess. I mean the kid showed up at my work place and we get hammered and I wake up next to him.”

“And he was wearing your shirt by accident as well?”

Okay chick flick moments:

_number one; sleep with the same guy more than once, (Checked)_

_number two; Let him sleep over, (Checked)_

_number three; “accidently leave/or give something in order to get the guy to come back (Checked)_

_number four; Stare at the picture you took of him while he slept (Because Mickey had one of those, reasons=unknown, Checked)_

_number five; Don’t actually decline a date invitation (Checked)_

Conclusion: **Boy you are fucked**. Hella fucked, like ‘oh I’m so secretly smitten’— fucked.

“Oh fuck, hell no.” Mickey said, “I knew it, I fucking knew it! Fucking chick flicks have messed my head. Why can’t a guy have a fucking CASUAL relationship with someone?!?! Fuck!”

“Why is that a bad thing Mickey? So what? You’re a little smitten, ain’t like the world ended or some shit.”

“I’m not putting myself through that roller coaster again.”

“So what your just gonna leave it like that?”

“Yes!”

“What happened to the ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’ thing?”

“I’m not judging anything,” Mickey sat down next to his sister.

“Oh, yeah? Let me remind you, didn’t Peter dump up because of your past?”

“You’re one cold-hearted bitch for bringing that up again, but yeah.”

“So he ran away without reading the whole story?”

“I guess.”

“And here you are doing the exact same thing to that boy, running away just because you think you can’t handle it, or he can’t handle you?”

Mickey didn’t say anything to that, he just stared his sister, waiting for her to elaborate.

“Doesn’t it kinda make you an asshole?” Mandy suggested.

“That’s not the point! Besides you don’t have to read every fucking book you come across” Mickey half-shouted.

“No, but given that you already like this ones cover _pretty_ darn much, so what the matter?”

 “I don’t fucking know.”

“Jesus, you’re a dumbass,” Mandy placed his hand on Mickey’s shoulder, “Just give him one change, okay? One little date?”

Maybe Mandy was right, she usually was when it came to things like these. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, maybe he just give it a go. _Fucking maybe_ , you only live once right?

“Ah fuck it, fine.”

**

Two days later someone knocked on his door, and it was the redhead, of course it was.

“Erm, I think I left my shirt here the other day,” He said rubbing the back of his neck, handing Mickey a piece of clothing.

“Yeah right, okay, wait here.” Mickey said and left to find the damn shirt, heart pounding like a motherfucker in his chest.

Calm down man, you’re gonna be just fine. Just ask him out… But do it casually as possible.

Mickey came back to the hallway where the redhead was leaning against the door frame.

“Here you go,” Mickey handed the shirt to the kid, “So…” He started, but got lost or stuck. Come the fuck on! How hard can this be? Simple question, wanna grab a cup of coffee?

So he cleared his throat to speak again.

“Sugar, you take sugar?” He said, mentally bitch slapping himself.

“What?” The ginger asked.

“Black hot coffee,” Jesus fucking Christ!

That’s it, Mickey grabbed his keys and wallet from the table by the door and pushed the kid out of the flat with him.

“We are going to get fucking coffee!” He announced rather loudly, making the ginger snigger.

“Like a date?” He asked.

“Yeah, like a fucking date,” Mickey said and marched ahead of the kid like a robot.

“Wait! If we’re gonna do this, let’s do it properly,” He stopped Mickey.

“Hey, you look gorgeous, I’m Ian. Wanna get a cup of coffee?” The kid, _Ian_ , said, giving his hand for Mickey to shake.

“Hey,” Mickey said nervously, ”You don’t look too bad yourself. I’m Mickey,” He took Ian’s hand, “I’d like that.”

Something told Mickey that this time he was gonna remember the kid’s name.

 

* * *

 

Who was one date gonna hurt?

Yeah right, give it five years and Mickey found himself having a joint-bank account, a fucking mortgage (You believe that shit?) and a goddamn dog (didn’t have a sweater though, and it was a Pitbull)

Yeah, one little date, Mandy had said. Not that Mickey minded, he had gotten a wonderful loving boyfriend out of the deal. His biggest problem nowadays was where the fuck was he gonna sleep when Ian had passed out in the middle of their bed and the dog hogged the rest of the bed? But despite all that, Mickey was happy, really fucking happy.

Mickey was glad he decided to read that book, and now he couldn’t wait to get to write his own story, the Mickey and Ian story, _their story_.

**Author's Note:**

> [ renmiriffx](http://renmiriffx.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Come say hi! Or whatever you want. Maybe we could whine/laugh together? Or make lil Mickey dolls and cuddle them or hey, maybe we could take over the world? :D I dunno.


End file.
